


If I Should Die Before I Wake

by thursdayschild



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Warming Up, mentions of depression and suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayschild/pseuds/thursdayschild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Like I said, there’s what I believe – or used to believe – and then there’s you.”</p><p>Even with Maxine Martin gone, warming up isn't a safe activity and once Kieren starts showing symptoms, Simon and Jem swear they will do anything and everything to keep him safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Should Die Before I Wake

**Author's Note:**

> This is set almost completely in line with the end of series two expect that Kieren's hands don't start shaking until a week or two after Amy's death.  
> Also, thanks to quinfish for editing!

A small insect alighted on the back of Kieren’s neck and he swatted it away without thinking. He didn’t care for bugs much, never had, but seeing them crawling in and out of human bodies had really sunk it for him. No more bugs. He frowned at his sketch of Jem’s smiling face (he was drawing from memory) as he thought about how much he didn’t like bugs. It took him a moment to realize what had actually happened.

Bugs were, for the most part, tiny. He shouldn’t have been able to feel it on his skin.

Kieren frowned and shook his head slightly. He hadn’t felt a bug. There was no way he’d felt a bug. It was just sense memory or something. He went back to his drawing.

Jem’s mouth didn’t seem quite right. He squinted across the deserted living room at an old picture of his sister from before the Rising. She was smiling up at him as they stood in front of the London Eye on a summer holiday. His little sister, no more than twelve in the picture. Now, she was out somewhere, probably – hopefully – not with Gary. Kieren had told her that he’d find her help, but what help was there to be had? The two licensed therapists in Roarton were booked full for months. Besides that, they were said not to be very good. He tried to talk to her, but he didn’t know how to deal with PTSD, especially not when he himself was an integral part to the trauma.

He tried to fix Jem’s mouth in his sketch, but the lines wouldn’t go where he wanted. His hands were shaking. That was something he couldn’t chalk up as sense memory. He’d never had that kind of problem before, yet he couldn’t hold them steady. He pressed his lips together anxiously. It had been happening off and on for well over a week now. Thankfully no one seemed to have noticed, but it didn’t strike him as a good sign. Maybe his medication wasn’t working right anymore. Maybe the dose was wrong. Maybe it was reacting strangely with something inside him. Maybe he was going rabid.

He should go and see Shirley Wilson. Though she’d initially been a bit, well, clueless about dealing with PDS, she’d gotten a lot better and he certainly trusted her more than that doctor if there was something... wrong. Not that there was. Probably just the dose. Or maybe his mum hadn’t been administering it right. That might be it. He’d go see Shirley tomorrow.

Kieren heard a car pulling up outside and got up. He grabbed the ruined drawing and his pens and darted quickly to his room. He didn’t want whoever it was to see him shaking and worry. He’d just closed his door when he heard his dad calling that he was home.

"I’m in my room,” he called back, hoping that would put an end to the conversation.

Things weren’t exactly bad with his family at the moment, but they were definitely tense. Sure, his parents had been starry eyed over Simon after he’d saved Kieren’s life, but it had been several weeks since then and, life saver or not, they were starting to slip back into old habits. Kieren knew they saw Simon as a threat. They didn’t really understand what had happened with the Undead Prophet, not that they’d tried to, of course, but they knew Simon had “radical connections.” They also could see that he was older. Kieren had tried to point out how little his mattered and that Simon wasn’t that much older (though he’d actually never managed to ask Simon just how old he was – or rather, had been). The main thing though, as far as Kieren could tell, was that Simon was what his parents called a “bad influence.” And by that, he knew, they meant he was gay and that they didn’t want Kieren to be gay too.

All in all, the Walker household wasn’t a very happy home at the moment. And that was leaving out everything with Jem and how Kieren was fairly sure that on some deep level his father wanted to kill Gary Kendall for what he’d done to his daughter.

"You want to come down, son?” his father called, his voice echoing slightly in the stairwell. “That show you used to like is on. You want to watch it?”

Kieren frowned. He’d never been hugely into television, preferring films, which could be watched at any time and didn’t require any keeping up. He had watched a few things off and on. He’d liked _Being Human_ well enough, but the idea of watching it now was much less appealing. Still, he didn’t want his dad to think he was sulking and his hands weren’t shaking anymore so he opened his door and went downstairs.

His father was sitting on the couch and the TV was on.

"You liked this one, didn’t you?”

Kieren focused on the small figures on the screen. It was _Merlin_.

"Yeah,” he said, smiling slightly. “Yeah, I did.”

He sat down beside his father and they watched the program. Neither of them followed it very well, not having seen the proceeding episodes, but it was nice, almost comforting, to sit in an easy silence with his father. It felt normal.

When the show ended, his father reached for the remote to turn to TV off, brushing Kieren’s leg with the side of his hand.

"Oh, sorry,” he muttered.

Kieren tried to shrug it off and look causal, like he hadn’t even noticed, but he had noticed. He’d felt the fabric move against his skin and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

"You alright, Kier?”

"Fine,” he said quickly. “I just remembered something I have to do.” He got up and hurried to his room, grabbing the misplaced phone from the bottom of the stairs as he passed it.

He shut himself in his room and leaned against the door, sliding down to sit with his back against the wood. It was hard. He could feel that it was hard. His fingers tripped over the buttons on the handset and he prayed silently as he listened to rings that someone would pick up and that that someone wouldn’t be one of those Undead Prophet fanatics who still sometimes congregated in Amy’s supposedly deserted house.

"Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded confused and a little nervous, like he’d just picked up a phone that wasn’t supposed to be connected.

"Simon,” Kieren sighed with relief as a fraction of the fear edged away.

"Kieren? This phone shouldn’t even work.”

"And you shouldn’t be squatting in Amy’s house, but they haven’t disconnected the line yet.”

"You alright? You sound-.”

"Look, I just need you to come round, okay?”

"What’s going on?”

"Please, Simon.”

"Alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

There was click as Simon hung up.

Kieren ran a hand over his face. It was shaking again. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong and he didn’t know what it was, but it sure as hell scared him. He should have called Shirley. She was the one who knew about these things. But he didn’t know her number and calling Simon had been instinct, some lingering holdover from when he (and so many others) had thought Simon had The Answers. He knew that wasn’t true now, knew that Simon was just another lost soul, but still. Simon had seen things at the very least. Maybe he’d seen something that could help.

Kieren remained pressed to the door, feeling how solid it was, until he heard a knock on the front door, a pause, and then his father’s voice, slightly stiff.

"It’s for you, Kier.”

"Tell him to come up,” he called back, hoping his voice was steadier than his hands.

A minute later, there was a gentle tap on the door. Kieren got to his feet and opened it.

Simon was there, just as he’d known he would be, but it was still a relief to see him.

"Come in then,” he said, stepping aside.

"What’s wrong?” Simon asked as soon as the door was shut.

"I need you to do something for me.”

"Of course.”

"Close your eyes.”

"Why?”

"Just do it.”

Kieren wasn’t sure when he’d thought of this little experiment, but it somehow seemed the thing to do.

Simon closed his eyes and waited. Kieren could see slight movement under the lids as Simon strained to pick up something.

"Tell me when I’m touching you.”

"How?”

"Just try, alright.”

Simon nodded and, after a moment, Kieren reached out slowly and laid a hand against Simon’s cheek. It felt cold.

"Am I touching you?” he asked.

"I don’t know. You know I don’t know.”

Kieren sighed and Simon opened his eyes.

"What’s this about?” he asked.

"Just try it with me,” Kieren said, closing his eyes.

He heard Simon let out a frustrated breath, but he soon felt a pressure against his upper arm.

"There,” he said at once. “You’re touching my arm.”

Simon jerked away and Kieren opened his eyes.

"How did you know that?”

"I felt it.”

Simon stared at him.

"What’s going on?”

"I don’t know.” Kieren felt his throat tightening and he tried not to chew his lip. No point doing more irreparable damage. “Look.”

He held out his hand to Simon. It was still shaking. Simon frowned and took it gently as if trying to steady the movement.

"Have you talked to anyone else?”

"No.”

"Tell me exactly what’s been happening.”

"The shaking. For maybe a week now. Maybe a little longer. It’s been off and on, but I think it’s getting worse – or at least it’s happening more. Then earlier today I thought I felt a bug land on me, just for a moment. I thought it must have been sense memory or something like that, but I felt my dad bump my leg and I felt you touch my arm and I can feel you touching me right now.”           

"It’s alright,” he said quietly. “You’re going to be alright.”

"But what if I’m not? What if I’m going rabid?”

"You’re not going rabid,” Simon said, a little sharply. “Is there anything else?”

Kieren thought for a moment, taking a slow inventory of his body, trying to feel something that would give him some kind of clue.

"I feel,” he began slowly. “Something.”

"Where?”

"Here.” He brushed his fingers against his temple.

"Emotion isn’t usual, you know.” Kieren thought he tried to smile.

"It’s not that, it’s something else.”

"Like a headache?”

"No. It’s like feeling sad maybe, but not. It’s like...” He struggled to figure it out. The feeling was familiar, but distant, like his voice echoing back to him from far away, the sound changed by distance. “Like how I felt before,” he said at last.

Simon’s frown deepened.

"Before the Rising?” he asked.

Kieren nodded.

"You should talk to someone – Shirley, at least. She means well.”

"It’s almost suppertime. She’ll be home by now.”

"That doesn’t matter. You need to see her.”

Kieren nodded.

"Come on.” Simon opened the door and waited for him.

They went downstairs in silence, only to be intercepted by Kieren’s father.

"Going out?”

"Just for a walk,” Kieren said.

"Well, your mother should be home in about an hour so don’t be too long.”

"We won’t.”

They headed for the door, Steve barely even looking at Simon.

"I thought they might like me better after I saved your life,” he said blandly.

"They like you better, but they still don’t like you.”

Simon nodded and they walked in silence towards the Wilson house.

Philip answered the door, his face going slightly odd when he saw them.

"Hey, Philip,” Kieren said, trying not sound normal as he stood with his hands folded awkwardly behind his back. “Is your mum home?”

"Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding a little thick. “Come in.”

They followed him inside as he called his mother to come downstairs. He nodded to them both before vanishing off somewhere, leaving them alone with Shirley.

"Kieren. Simon. What can I do for you boys?”

"Kieren’s not well.”

"Not well?” Shirley asked. Kieren was fairly sure she was resisting the urge to make a bad joke. “What’s the matter?”

She sat him down in a kitchen chair and Kieren held out his hands. They weren’t shaking anymore.

"Something wrong with your hands?”

"They were shaking before.”

Shirley frowned, like this was somehow familiar to her.

"You know something about it?” he asked.

"I’m not sure. Anything else odd?”

Kieren glanced at Simon, but Simon gave no reaction.

"I’m sort of... feeling things.”

"What do you mean?”

"Like my nervous system is getting better.”

"Close your eyes,” Simon told Kieren. “Say when you feel something.” He turned back to Shirley. “Touch him.”

Still frowning, he reached out laid a hand on his knee.

"Now. My right knee.”

She jerked her hand back, looking a little afraid.

"This is big stuff, Kieren,” she told him as he opened his eyes again. “I don’t think I can do much about it. Nothing about your medication has changed?”

"No.”

"Same dose? Getting it at the usual time?”

"Yeah.”

"Not taking anything... different?”

"No. Why?”

"Oh nothing. Just, um, rumors of folks trying to make their own.”

"Oh.”

"Well, I don’t know that I can do much about it tonight. Come to the clinic tomorrow and we’ll see what Dr. Russo thinks.”

"You’re sure you don’t know anything?” Simon asked carefully.

"No. Nothing that will help him.”

"Well, thanks anyway,” Kieren said, getting to his feet.

"Of course. I’m glad you came to see me.”

Simon walked Kieren home and stopped by the drive.

"Do you want me to stay with you?”

"No. I’ll be fine.”

Kieren smiled at him and hoped all the parts of his face were going to the right places for the expression to work. Apparently he did alright because Simon smiled back at him.

"I’ll meet you at the clinic. Say ten?”

"Alright.”

"I don’t trust that doctor.”

"He’s a bit odd, but they’re all like that, I think. Doctors, I mean.”

Simon nodded.

"Call me if-.”

"I will.”

Simon nodded again and Kieren could tell he was trying to think of a reason not to go.

"I’ll be alright.”

"I know.”

"It’s probably nothing.”

"Probably.”

"Or maybe it’s my special First Risen powers,” he said, trying to tease.

"Don’t,” said Simon sharply.

"Sorry.” He shuffled his feet for a moment. “I’ll see you at ten, then.”

"Yeah.”

Simon leaned in and kissed him briefly before walking away without another word.

The kiss was strange as it lingered on Kieren’s lip. Cool and little tingly, not much like how he remembered it feeling, but at least it felt like something.

As he walked away, Simon thought about what Kieren had said. Maybe this was something to do with him being the First Risen. Maybe Kieren did have some special power that would have been released upon his second death and caused the Second Rising. Or maybe it was all bullshit. He’d never believed in Bible before the Rising; why should he believe in it now?

But maybe...

* * *

 

Kieren sat quietly through dinner, not knowing what to say to his family. His hands weren’t shaking anymore, but his instinct to eat food was back with a vengeance and he almost felt hungry. Not the sort of hunger he’d felt during the Rising, but the sort of hunger anyone felt at the smell of butter melting over mashed potatoes. He excused himself quickly. He felt like Jem was looking at him funny, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

Kieren sat in his room and felt _weird_. There was no other word for it. He felt nauseous, but it might be hunger, which he shouldn’t be feeling. He felt dizzy, but it might be dehydration, which he shouldn’t be feeling. There was a pounding in his head and his skin felt hot like a fever. Just when he’d started to accept his new body and life, it was all changing on him. Again. It just didn’t seem fair.

He lay down, hoping the pounding in his head and ears would fade. It seemed a little easier lying down so he closed his eyes and eventually started to drift off to sleep.

His dreams were dark.

Usually when he dreamed, it was of the Rising, of the terrible things that he’d done. Things he was told weren’t his fault, but things that he couldn’t shake regardless of what anyone said. Tonight his dreams were different.

He was running through the woods, trying to get somewhere important. It was dark and he kept stumbling, but he knew he wasn’t lost, knew that if he could just keep going then he would reach his destination and it was desperately important that he do so. He felt like he was running slowly, but maybe it was just too dark to see the trees going past. Once, he looked down at the things that kept tripping him up and he thought he saw the glimmers of eyes and blood, but when he looked back, they were only branches.

At last he saw the place he was trying to reach. The cave. There was a figure outside of it, sitting with their back to the stone wall. Kieren dashed up to them and knelt down to take a better look. This was it. He found the important something. With a sudden rush of realization, he understood that the figure was Rick and that he was dead. Kieren let out a cry and held Rick to him. His body was wet with blood and not quite cold yet. After what might have been a long time, he gently lowered Rick onto the ground on his back. He smoothed out Rick’s uniform, which was spattered with blood and dirt. He went to smooth Rick’s hair as well, but saw that Rick’s face wasn’t Rick’s face; it was his own.

He stared down at what was now his own body, bloody and cold, the pale face hauntingly familiar from the bathroom mirror. He looked around to see if anyone else could see this strange horror and noticed that his family was standing there, looking at the body on the ground. Jem was shaking and holding her gun. She was saying that she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant to shoot him. Kieren looked back at his body and saw that the slash marks in his wrists were bullet wounds and he could hear his father comforting his sister, telling her that he was only a rotter and that all rotters were the same, no matter who they’d been in life. Kieren looked to his mother, who was nodding solemnly.

He tried to cry out to them, to say that he was here and not dead, but they couldn’t see him. Next thing he knew, Simon had appeared and was carrying his body away. Kieren tried to call after him too, but Simon only said that he had to take care of the First Risen and didn’t have time for this. Then he was gone.

Kieren looked back to his family and they were gone too. Instead he was facing Bill Macy, who leveled a gun at him and fired. The last thing Kieren saw was Bill’s laughing face, which, he thought for the barest of instants, just might have been Rick’s.

Kieren woke with a start. It took him a moment to realize how bad he felt. The fever feeling had escalated so badly that it was as if his very skin was on fire and the pounding had spread throughout his entire body.  He was also simply in pain, a pure raw feeling that started at his wrists and shot up his arm, tangling him down into some strange, dizzy world. He wondered how he could have possibly slept through any of it.

He tried to sit up and felt something wet under his hands. He fumbled for his bedside light, fingers slipping from the unknown liquid. He felt dizzy and weak and terribly, terribly human.

The light clicked on and Kieren saw the problem at once. He registered it with a sort of vaguely interested detachment, like it was a dull lab exercise in chemistry. It was strange and, in a way, fantastic, but he couldn’t make himself feel that it mattered.

The undertaker had done a passable job stitching up Kieren’s wrists, but since he’d been buried in long sleeves, too much effort did not seem to have been put into the job and rot had long since set in on the thread. Now, with each pounding, blood was oozing from under his skin. He watched it dribbling out and down his arm from the semi-open wounds, another bubbling of red coming with each throb in his head. He slowly understood.

His heart was beating.

It occurred to him that if he could get proper medical attention, he would be fine. It also occurred to him that proper medical attention probably didn’t exist for this kind of problem. He didn’t know how much blood he had to lose. Not a lot, probably. He stood up, thinking that he should get help, wake someone, but he was unsteady on his feet. Nothing made sense. He was bleeding. He shouldn’t be bleeding. He wrists hurt. They hurt a lot. But at the same time, it was all distant, like a memory. He tried to walk towards the door, but stumbled and fell, one leg still tangled in his duvet. He felt the soft weight of the blanket settle back over him and he thought vaguely that perhaps he should just go back to sleep.

No, no, that wasn’t good, wasn’t safe. He tried to call out, but he voice wasn’t working. His throat was dry beyond belief and he couldn’t make anything come out of it beyond a faint rasping. It occurred to him that he might die here on his bedroom floor from self-inflicted wounds that were years old. Did that still count as suicide? He didn’t know. He tried to get up again, but couldn’t. He was too weak, a problem he hadn’t had since he’d passed out all those years ago in the woods.

He thought people might be mad at him if he died here and he tried to fight it. But it was dark and warm and he couldn’t get his arms to work anymore.

* * *

 

Simon decided it would be best to pick Kieren up from his place and his parents could just deal with it. He arrived at the plain little house a bit before ten and knocked at the door.

"Kieren? No, I don’t think he’s up yet. Haven’t seen him all morning.” Sue frowned to herself. “Bit late for him to still be asleep, don’t you think?”

Simon nodded mutely. Sometime inside him was screaming that Kieren wasn’t alright, that he’d been wrong to leave him alone all night when they hadn’t known what was going on.

"Would you mind if I went up and checked on him?” Simon asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.

"Alright,” Sue said. She didn’t sound overly pleased about it, but she stepped aside for him with a smile all the same.

Simon was glad Sue had answered the door. He didn’t think Steve would have let him in. He nodded his thanks to her and went upstairs. He knocked on Kieren’s door, but got no answer. Maybe one of the changes was that he would need to sleep more.

"Kieren,” he called softly.

No response.

He called a little louder and knocked on the door again, more forcefully this time.

Still there was nothing.

At last he gave up and tried the door. It was unlocked and swung open easily. Kieren’s room was as he remembered it for the most part. The duvet had been dragged onto the floor and there was something dark with a bit of a shine to it on the bed. And there was a smell, a horribly familiar smell. His eyes moved slowly back to the lumpy duvet on the floor and he realized that there was a form underneath it. He could just see one foot poking out from beneath the blanket at the far end of the pile.

Simon took a deep breath and pulled the duvet aside.

It was Kieren and the smell of death was coming from him.

Simon must have made a noise because he heard a door open down the hall and heard Jem’s voice.

"Oy, what’s going out there?”

"Nothing,” he said, trying to sound calm. “Go back in your room, Jem.” God, she didn’t need to see this. Kieren wouldn’t want her to see this.

"Simon? What are you doing?”

Before he could reach around and close the door, Jem was standing there. He heard her hand clap to her mouth.

"What’s wrong with him?” she breathed after a moment and Simon could hear tears in her voice.

He knelt carefully over Kieren and saw where the blood was coming from. Even if the wounds had been stitched shut properly, the blood vessels would still have been broken.

"He’s not-.”

Simon carefully rolled Kieren onto his back. His eyes were closed and he was very still. Simon reached out to feel for breath before realizing he couldn’t. Jem seemed to understand as she knelt beside him and held a hand over his brother’s mouth. After a moment, she shook her head.

Simon felt himself grow impossibly cold.

This was just like Amy.

"I should have stayed with him,” he croaked. “I should have known he could start bleeding.”

"Why didn’t he get someone?” asked Jem.

"Looks like he tried to.”

They knelt in silence for a long moment.

"I have to tell mum and dad,” said Jem, her voice terribly empty.

"Wait.” Simon’s brain was starting to kick into gear. There wasn’t that much blood. Maybe, just maybe, there was still time. Or maybe there hadn’t been that much blood to begin with. No. There was still a chance. Kieren would always been worth fighting for. "Get pressure on the wounds,” he snapped at Jem.

She stared at him for a moment, he face still blank with shock and then her HVF training kicked in and she nodded. She grabbed the duvet and tore a strip from its cover, handing it to Simon before tearing another. They began to wrap Kieren’s wrists, each moving in swift silence.

"You’ve got to get them tight,” Jem said.

"I know.”

"Simon?” Sue’s voice drifted up from downstairs. “Everything alright?”

"Fine,” he called through gritted teeth.

"Is Kieren up?”

"He’s fine.” Simon could hear his voice cracking and prayed to god that Sue didn’t come upstairs yet.

"Let me see your side,” Jem said.

Simon offered her Kieren’s wrist and she ran her hands over it.

"Should do more,” she said, reaching for the duvet again.

Simon was baffled by her calm. Maybe the HVF was actually good for something besides murder.

She handed him another strip and he wrapped Kieren’s wrist again.

"You know CPR?” she asked.

Simon nodded.

"Try not to break his ribs.”

He nodded again and shifted his position closer to Kieren’s chest. He took a breath and positioned his hands over his sternum.

"Come on, Kieren,” he whispered and began to push.

Jem tried to hold pressure on both Kieren’s wrists at once, but when he glanced down, he could see them starting to strain. Maybe they should have gone for tourniquets.

"He’s still bleeding,” she whimpered.

"Just let me try,” Simon growled back.

"Simon?” Sue’s voice was back, much closer this time, but he didn’t even look up to see if she was behind him. “Jem, where are-?”

They both ignored her.

Simon could feel desperate panic building in his chest. He was pushing too hard. He was going to break Kieren’s ribs and then what would he do? He couldn’t heal from that.

"Simon,” Jem said quietly.

Simon knew she was going to tell him that Kieren was gone, but he wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t be.

"Kieren!” Sue’s voice was very close now and he knew she’d seen, but he didn’t care. He had to get Kieren back.

"Simon, stop. Just stop.” Jem sounded like she was crying.

There was dull thump and Sue appeared in his peripheral vision as she fell to her knees.

"Come on, Kieren,” he hard himself saying. “Wake up, just wake up.”

"Simon!” He couldn’t tell if it was Jem or Sue shouting his name, but someone was pulling him away from Kieren.

"Sue? What’s-?” There was a new voice. Simon vaguely registered it as Steve.

"Kieren!” Was he shouting the name or was it someone else?

There was a moment of silence in which they all tried to somehow take in what had happened. It was broken by a tiny cough.

"Kieren?”

Grey eyelids fluttered.

"Mum, call 999.”

* * *

 

Simon sat in the waiting room in the hospital. They’d had to drive over to the next village, following ever farther and farther behind the ambulance. Sue had refused to leave Kieren’s side and had gone with him in the ambulance, speeding away and away and away, leaving Steve, Jem, and Simon to the most uncomfortable car ride in history. Steve had opened his mouth to object to Simon’s presence, but Jem had stopped him with a look.

"He saved Kier’s life. Again,” was all she’d said.

The hospital staff had said “family only” and so Simon sat in the ER waiting room, alone. Jem had given him a desperate, almost apologetic, glance as she’d gone with her family, but he couldn’t blame her for leaving him there. He was sure they blamed him somehow for what had happened.

He was jerked from his morose reverie by a voice. It was flat and bored, but very close.

"Hello. I am PDS sufferer and I’m giving back. I’ve-.”

You don’t have to,” he said looking up at the woman.

"Oh,” she said, taking note of Simon’s features for the first time. “Guess you won’t be wanting that coffee then.”

"No.”

She frowned at him.

"What are you doing here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Simon gave her look that said he did mind her asking, but replied anyway.

"I’ve got a friend in there.”

"Oh.”

She started walk away.

"Listen,” he said, struck by a sudden thought.

"What?”

"You seen any others like us around?”

“’Sides me and Tommy? No. Just you.”

"Good.”

"Why?” She narrowed her eyes at Simon.

"Nothing. Just might be people who want to hurt him.”

"This friend of yours?”

"Yeah.”

"Why?”

"It’s complicated. Look, if you see any others who look like they shouldn’t be here, just let me know, yeah?”

"’Right.”

She gave him a slightly suspicious look and moved away.

Simon sighed. There was no reason for him to suspect Kieren was in danger here from the followers of the Undead Prophet, but Roarton was a small place and news traveled fast. There was no telling how many people knew Kieren was here. It could be no one, but it was just as likely to be the entire village. The real question then was if anyone had realized that Kieren was the First Risen.

Simon waited. Usually he was a pretty patient person, but this was different. This was excruciating. He rubbed his hand over his forearm, rumpling the sleeve of his sweater over the dark lines on his skin. His hands were stained with Kieren’s blood. Simon thought about what Kieren had told him the day before. It had almost sounded like he’d been saying that his depression was coming back. But that couldn’t be the case. Neurotripteline kept their neurochemistry “normal” and “stable.” That couldn’t be what was happening. Kieren hadn’t failed to get help on purpose.

He gave himself a little shake. It hardly mattered if Kieren’s depression was rising back up against him again if he died. It had been hours and he hadn’t seen or heard anything from the Walker family. They must be in some other waiting room deeper inside the hospital. He didn’t like it there; it reminded him too much of Norfolk. Only cleaner. He supposed it was probably cleaner now that they had full government funding and support. At least the visitor areas would be nicer.

He wished he could have accepted that coffee, having something to do with his hands would be wonderful right about now before he worried a hole through his own skin. He’d gotten up to pace a few times, but every time he’d done so, he’d gotten dirty and even fearful looks from the living people around him. So he stayed still with his head down, glancing up at the door whenever he heard it open, but no one that looked like a threat came in. Just injured people and their families or friends. He felt a little bad for the few that came in alone.

The hospital wasn’t busy as it was still early and most people hadn’t had time yet to sustain serious injuries, though one man came in with burns, smelling of singed flesh and coffee. Simon winkled his nose. He just wanted to see Kieren. That was all he wanted.

It was well past noon when the doors the Walker family had vanished behind opened and Jem appeared. She held the door open and looked at him. Simon got to his feet and went to her, half expecting her to send him away or slam the door in his face.

"Come on,” she said and led him down several hallways to another door.

Simon looked at her, searching her face for something beyond exhaustion, but he couldn’t read her.

Jem opened the door and went inside. Simon followed.

The room was small and Sue and Steve were sitting in chairs next to the bed. Another chair faced them across the bed – Jem’s, presumably. Kieren lay in the bed. He was an odd color, not the pallid hue of a sick human or the grey of the undead. There was an IV going into the bend of his elbow and thick, white bandages encased both his wrists. He lay under the white blankets, perfectly still expect for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Jem walked around the bed to stand by her parents, neither of whom would look at Simon. Or maybe they just wouldn’t look away from Kieren.

Simon approached the bed slowly. Kieren’s hand lay on top of the blanket, one finger covered by a plastic something that was tracking his pulse rate. He reached out and brushed his fingers against Kieren’s skin without really thinking about it. He couldn’t tell if he was warm or cold. He looked at Kieren’s strangely colored face for a long moment. The features seemed peaceful and Simon could hear deep, even breaths sliding in and out of his nose. His eyes were still closed and Simon wanted desperately to gently lift the lids and see what color lay beneath.

He raised his eyes to the rest of the Walker family, the obvious question held clearly within them.

"They think he’ll be all right,” Sue said after a moment and Simon was vaguely aware of his posture changing as tensioned drained from his body and exhaustion took its place. “It wasn’t looking good for a while there, but it seems like his body’s taking the blood transfusion.”

Simon nodded, looking back down at Kieren. His family didn’t know what he was anymore either.

"The doctors called Norfolk,” Jem said quietly and Simon’s head snapped up to stare at her.

"When?” he asked, his voice hoarse from hours of disuse.

"I dunno. After they decided he’d make it, I think.”

Simon glanced around as if expecting to see someone he hadn’t noticed before, someone who was there to take Kieren away.

"You can’t let them take him.”

"But we don’t know what’s happening to him and neither do the doctors,” said Sue. “We have to get him help.”

"And you think those bastards at Norfolk will give him that?”

"They’re the professionals,” Steve said, giving Simon something of a disapproving look.

"You have no idea what they’ll do to him,” he snapped.

Jem frowned at him.

"What are you saying?”

"That the so-called doctors at Norfolk don’t want to help people like me and Kieren. He won’t be treated as human there.”

"But he could die here.” Sue looked like she was trying very hard to hold her son’s hand gently despite her urge to clutch him to her.

"Not if he’s careful.”

"He’s not your son,” Steve said, still not looking at Simon.

"I should hope not,” muttered Jem.

"Jem,” her mother chided.

"You don’t believe me that they’ll hurt him?” Simon asked Steve.

Steve ignored him.

Simon glanced over his shoulder at the empty hallway that he could just see through the small window in the door.

"Believe this.”

He pulled off his bloodstained sweater, the t-shirt underneath coming along with it. He heard Kieren’s parents making offended sounds, while Jem made a noise that sounded more appreciative than anything else.

"What do you think you’re doing?”

Simon turned around, showing them his back and the semi-closed wound that ran down it.

"That is what they’ll do to your son.”

There was silence from the Walker family.

"That’s disgusting,” said Jem after a long moment.

"Simon, please put your clothes back on.”

He turned back around, pulling the arms of his sweater right way out again.

"That’s what they did to me at Norfolk. That’s the history of neurotripteline.” He pulled his clothes back on and looked at them evenly. “They’ll kill him to unlock whatever secrets they think are hiding in there.”

Jem was shifting her weight slowly, like a boxer in slow motion.

"If you won’t stop them from taking Kieren, I will,” he told them, his eyes back on the young man in the bed.

Sue and Steve exchanged a glance.

"Who’s hungry?” Steve asked after a moment. “There’s got to be a cafeteria in here somewhere.” He got to his feet and looked at his family.

"I’m staying with Kier,” Jem said.

"We’ll bring you something then, won’t we?” Steve looked at his wife.

"Of course.”

They shuffled awkwardly out of the room.

Simon and Jem were silent until the footsteps had vanished down the hall. They sat down in chairs, facing each other across Kieren’s body.

"You really think they’ll hurt him?” she asked.

"Not a doubt.”

"Why?”

"He’s different. They’ll claim he’s the key to a cure.”

"I thought neurotripteline was the cure.”

"Neurotripteline treats symptoms. It’s no more a cure than a cough suppressant is. What’s happening to Kieren, _that_ could be a cure.”

"Do you think he’ll get better?”

"You mean, turn fully human again?”

She nodded.

"I don’t know. It doesn’t seem possible, but the Rising didn’t seem possible – still doesn’t. I’m not sure there’s a limit on possibility anymore.”

Jem stared at her brother.

"Do you want him to get better?” Simon asked her.

"Do you want him not to?”

Simon looked at Kieren’s still face. He didn’t know. Kieren could be safer if he were fully human, but between now and then, he’d be in more danger than any of them could possibly imagine. Even if he did get “better,” Simon doubted he’d ever be free to just live his life. Maybe this would somehow blow ever, just a phase in the undead life that most of them hadn’t hit yet. Maybe. But he doubted it. They’d always said the First Risen would be special. But then how did that explain Amy? Maybe there just wasn’t an explanation. If he was honest with himself, at least a part of him didn’t want Kieren to change. He told himself it was because changing wasn’t safe for him, but he knew the real reason. He didn’t want to lose him.

"Simon?”

"Sorry. What?”

"Nothing. You just seemed far away.”

Simon shook his head.

"What do you think your parents are talking about?”

"If they should listen to you.”

"Saved his life twice and they still hate me.”

"They don’t hate you,” Jem told him. “They’re afraid of you.”

"Great.”

"They were afraid of Rick too.”

"Rick?”

"Did Kieren never tell you how he died?”

"Yes.”

"That was Rick.”

"Ah.”  Simon turned this fact over his mind for a moment. He’d gathered that Kieren’s parents were a bit prejudiced, but this was absurd. “You’re saying your parents are more afraid that I’ll turn their son gay than eat their brains?”

"They’re afraid you’ll get him hurt.”

"I just hope they listen.”

They both looked at Kieren. He seemed to be sleeping and maybe he was; Simon didn’t know very much about medicine. He was about to ask Jem if she knew when the doctors thought Kieren might wake up when he thought he saw movement in the pale face.

"Kieren?”

Kieren realized he was awake. It was dark, totally dark, and for a horrifying moment he thought it was the Second Rising, that he’d have to dig his way out of a coffin again. He could feel panic swelling his chest painfully until he noticed that his eyes were shut. With an effort of will, he managed to open them just a little. It was bright. He wasn’t underground or if he was, he was in a room and not a coffin. Not being buried alive (or rather being buried partially dead) was a good start to any day. Everything was details.

He thought he heard someone saying his name and he tried to focus. The room was too bright for him to see properly, but he could make out shapes leaning over him.

"Kier, can you hear me?”

Where was he? His room was never this bright and he had the impression that he was lying on something soft. So probably not the floor. And he was fairly sure he’d passed out on his face and now he was on his back. Had he been moved? Was he back at Norfolk? Were these people doctors? Were they going to take him apart to find out what had made his heart beat again? He could feel the panic rising in him again and he started to struggle, expecting to find himself restrained.

"Kieren, you’re alright Calm down. You’re safe. I’m here. Jem and I are here.”

He cut his eyes to the figure on his right and squinted against the light above him to try to make out the face. The voice was achingly familiar, but he just couldn’t figure out what was happening and where the hell was he?

The face came into focus at last.

"Simon?” he tried to say, but his throat was still painfully dry and he wasn’t sure any sound came out.

"I’m here, Kieren.”

He could feel a cold pressure warped around his right hand and a warm one on his left. He looked slowly between them, trying to ask with his eyes what was happening to him.

"You’re in the hospital,” Jem said. “But you’re going to be alright. You’ve had a blood transfusion.”

Kieren nodded a little and looked to Simon. He’d said “safe,” but this didn’t sound safe at all.

"I’m not going to let them send you back,” he said quietly and Kieren nodded again.

"Can you talk?” Jem asked.

He tried to say, “I’m trying,” but just ended up coughing.

"Do you want some water?”

"He can’t have water,” Simon pointed out, but Kieren was nodding again so Jem poured him some into a paper cup from the pitcher on the bedside table.

She steadied it and Simon slid a cold arm behind his shoulders to help him sit up enough to drink. He coughed a little, but kept it down. Simon tried not to stare.

"How are you feeling?” asked Jem.

"Not too bad,” Kieren said, voice still hoarse. “Where are Mum and Dad?”

"Getting some food.”

"How long have I been out?”

"Only I couple of hours,” Simon told him.

"And they let you stay?”

"Simon saved your life. Again.”

"I couldn’t have done it without your sister.”

Jem smiled a little at the acknowledgement.

"What happened?”

"You almost bled out on your bedroom floor,” Jem said, clearly trying to sound blasé about the whole thing.

"But what’s _happening_?”

"Same thing that happened to Amy, I guess.”

"How?”

Simon just shook his head.

"Look, Kieren, I need to talk to you,” Simon said.

Or at least he tried to say it. He was partway through when the door opened and there was a nurse coming to check on Kieren and when she saw that he was awake, there was no time for talking. Someone was called to sent to fetch the doctor and then to fetch Kieren’s parents. Simon was deemed unnecessary and shunted out of the room, left to stand awkwardly in the hallway and try to peer back through the tiny window. Kieren looked upset and he could tell the sudden commotion was stressing him out.

Jem joined him in the hallway a few minutes after his exile.

"Shouldn’t have that many people in a room that small, but Mum and Dad won’t leave,” she said as she leaned against the wall next to the door. She tapped her foot and chewed her lip, shooting sideways glances at Simon every now and then. “What do you think?” she asked at length.

"About what happened to him?”

"About what’s going to happen to him?”

Simon frowned and Jem watched him, waiting for an answer. When none seemed to be forthcoming, she turned to him fully and asked her real question.

"How do we keep him safe?”           

"We?” he asked.

"Are we going to have to go on the run?”

"What?”

"With Kieren.”

"What are you talking about?”

"To keep them from taking him back to Norfolk.”

"Slow down, Jem.”           

"Look, we both know my parents can’t keep Kier safe. I’ve got my HVF training and you’ve got your ULA stuff or whatever. You know what’s up, anyway, right? We can keep him safe until this blows over or something.”

Simon stared at her and realized that she was serious. He also realized that she might be right.

"We don’t need to go to extremes yet.”

"Those people from Norfolk could be here any time; we need to be ready. I’m not losing him again.”

Simon narrowed his eyes at Jem, trying to figure her out.

"If we need to protect Kieren, we can,” he said. “But first you’re going to need to figure out what side you’re on.”

"What side I’m on? What side are you on? Are you with those ULA bastards or not?”

"Not,” he said simply. “Are you with the HVF?”

"The HVF disbanded.”

"Bullshit.”

Jem set her jaw and returned Simon’s glare with matched force until they heard an unmistakable cry of pain from the room.

"I’m on my brother’s side. The HVF is over and the people who think it isn’t can go fuck themselves.”

Simon nodded.

They waited in silence as the doctors and nurses slowly filtered out, muttering about tests and needing to call experts. At last the room was empty again expect for Kieren and his parents and Jem and Simon went back inside.

Someone had brought a few more pillows and Kieren was propped up halfway into a sitting position. Simon didn’t think it looked very comfortable. Steve and Sue looked at him like they’d been hoping he would have wandered off after being sent into the hall and were disappointed that he’d come back.

"What’s the word?” asked Jem, struggling to sound bright.

"They’re not sure.”

"Big surprise.” She was shifting her weight again, fight or flight instincts ready to kick in at any moment. “When can we take him home?”

"Not yet,” said her mother, finding a smile for her. “But you can take the car home if you want to.”

"Why would I want that?”

Sue opened her mouth and then closed it again, looking at little confused.

"Did they say anything else about Norfolk?” Simon asked.

"They don’t think it’s a good idea to move him yet, so they’re sending a specialist,” Steve said.

"A specialist?” repeated Simon.  “They have a specialist for this kind of situation?”

"I think they meant someone who’s studied PDS,” Sue said, clearly trying to defuse the strain in the small room.

"Right. Because they know so much about it.”

Steve’s jaw moved tensely, but he said nothing.

"Do you want anything to eat, Jem?” Sue asked.

"I’m fine.”

"Um?” said Kieren. “Still awake and everything.”

"Sorry, love,” said his mother at once, leaning over him to kiss his forehead.

Kieren sucked in his lips, thinking for a moment before carefully voicing a question.

"Um, could I talk to Simon for a minute? Alone?”

"Sure,” said Jem, looking pointedly at her parents.

"Of course,” Sue managed after a moment. She smoothed Kieren’s hair back and then took her husband’s hand.

Jem led them out into the hallway. Simon watched them go and turned to Kieren.

"What’s going on?”

"I don’t know.”

Kieren sensed that edge of panic surfacing again. Some part of him had been sure that Simon would still somehow have the answer.

"Am I going to die?”

"If you turn fully human again, I suppose it is back on the table for you.”

Kieren rolled his eyes.

"But it’s not like I’m going to die right now.”

"Rather the opposite, it would seem.”

"And Norfolk?”

"Jem and I aren’t going to let them take you.”

"Jem and-?”

"We can keep you safe even if your parents won’t help.”

"Sometimes I think they don’t love me anymore.”

Simon suppressed a deep sigh. As much as he disliked Kieren’s parents, it hurt to hear him talk like that. Already a part of his mind was calculating ways to keep Kieren away from sharp objects.

"They’re just worried that they can’t take care of you properly. They can’t understand Norfolk.” He shuffled slightly, feeling odd about standing so tall over Kieren’s prone form. “I showed them my...” He made a jerky motion towards his back.

Kieren frowned for a moment and then understood.

"And they still don’t...?”

"I don’t think so.”

Kieren sighed.

"You know I didn’t mean to... hurt myself last night, right?”

Simon nodded, trying to keep relief from his face.

"I woke up and I think I’d already lost a lot of blood.”

Another nod.

"I tried to get someone, but I couldn’t.”

A nod.

"I thought I was going to die.”

The last thing he would have said to Kieren would have been a few one-syllable words, tense and meaningless.

"Do you think I’ll... get better?”

"I don’t know.”

"Is it everyone or am I... different?”

"I don’t know, Kieren.”

He didn’t have answers. Not anymore.

He shifted under Kieren’s gaze. At least his eyes were still normal. Not normal maybe, but the way Simon knew them. It made it feel less like he was losing him. He wanted to ask if Kieren did change, if he would leave, but he wasn’t entirely sure what they had to begin with and he supposed Kieren couldn’t leave something that didn’t really exist.

"You wanted to ask something?”

"I just wanted to talk to you without my parents here.” He smiled a little weakly at Simon. “I’m so tired.”

"You should rest. It hasn’t been that long.”

"I don’t want to go to sleep again.”

"You’ll be okay.”

"I thought I was buried again when I woke up.”

"You’re safe, Kieren.”

"Not if they’ve called Norfolk.”

"We won’t let them take you. _I_ won’t let them take you.”

Kieren looked at him for a long moment.

"Do you love me?” he asked.

Simon felt like his heart had stopped even though it hadn’t beat once in years. He realized he’d opened his mouth with no idea of what to say when he heard the door open behind him.

"Kieren?” asked Sue. “The doctors wanted to talk to you again.”

Simon returned to his hallway exile.

* * *

 

"No.”                      

"Sir, visiting hours are over. If it hadn’t been for the, um, special circumstances around Mr. Walker’s case, I’m not sure he would have been allowed visitors at all.”

"I’m not leaving.”

"Please don’t make me call security, sir.”

"Look, lady,” said Jem, stepping between Simon and the nurse. “Kieren might not be safe here. Someone needs to be with him.”

"Hospital staff-,” she began.

“Might be the very people he’s in danger from,” Simon snapped.

Jem shot him a “you’re not helping” looking.

"What if I stay with him? I’m family.”

"Visiting hours are over,” the nurse said again. “He needs rest.”

"He rested with me playing heavy metal down through the hall for years. He can rest with me sitting next to him.” She glanced at her parents in annoyance. They were being 110% unhelpful.

"I really don’t care what kind of relationship you have, you need to leave.”           

"Alright, I don’t know who you think you are-,” Jem began angrily, but she was cut short by a new arrival on the scene.

"What seems to be the trouble here?” asked a man who appeared to be a doctor. Jem didn’t recognize him and he was straightening his nametag and still looked awake so she figured he’d just started his shift.

"Sir,” she said, her voice entirely different now. “My bother is in there. He nearly died in my arms this morning. And now this woman is telling me I have to leave him. Doctor, I understand there are rules, but he’s my brother and I love him more than anything. I already lost him once to, um, to suicide. What if he takes a turn for the worse in the night? No one can say what’s happening to him. Please, Doctor.”

Simon wasn’t sure if the look that followed this passionate performance was meant to be imploring or flirtatious, but whatever it was, it worked.

"Do you want us to leave you the car, love? We could get a taxi home.”

Jem seemed to think about this offer for a moment. Simon could see her weighing the pros and cons. The car wouldn’t be down as stolen, at least not for as long, but once it was they’d know everything about it. It wasn’t a very noticeable car, but everyone in the village knew it so there’d be no sneaking back to get more clothes or supplies. Her parents’ car. The less she dragged them into this, the better.

"It’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

"Simon, do you want a lift?” Sue asking, turning to him. Behind her, Steve stiffened visibly.

"No. Thanks.”

"Got friends in town?”

"Something like that.”

He glanced at Jem and hoped she understood that he had no intention of leaving the parking lot.

* * *

 

Jem was dozing when the door opened. She jerked awake and fumbled for her bag, which was sitting at her feet, but before she could find whatever she’d reached for she saw that it was Simon.

"How did you-?” she started to ask.

"We have to go. Now.” His voice was sharp and his eyes didn’t rest on anything for more than a few seconds.

"What’s happening?”

"They’re coming. Get him up.”

"He’s still on the IV.”

"We have to get him out of here.”

Despite their hushed tones, the rest of the hospital was quiet enough that their voices woke Kieren from his fitful sleep. He made a confused sound and they both focused on him.

"Kier, how’re you feelings?”

"Okay, I guess.”

"Good,” Simon said. “We’re going.”

"What?”

"They’re coming for you. To take you back to Norfolk.”

That got Kieren’s attention and he struggled to sit up.

"We have to go,” he squeaked.

"Yeah. We’re leaving now.” Simon turned to Jem. “Are this other clothes still around?”

"No. They’d be all bloody anyway.”

"Shit.” Simon’s eyes darted around the room as he thought and then he pulled off his sweater. “Help me get him up.”

Jem did her best to remove the IV carefully and helped Simon support Kieren into a full sitting position.

"Put this on.”

Kieren struggled into the sweater and Jem and Simon helped him, guiding the sleeves carefully around his bandaged wrists. It was too large on him, but covered his injuries. He still looked like someone escaping a hospital, but at least he wouldn’t be cold. Jem found a pair of slippers under the bed and they got Kieren on his feet.

"You got a plan?” Simon asked her.

"Sorta. Can you get us out of the building?”

"Well, given that I walked right in, I don’t see what’s stopping us from walking right out.”

"Wasn’t there someone at the desk?”

"Employees’ entrance. Let’s go.”

Jem dug in her bag for a moment and then pulled out her colt, which she tucked into the back of her pants.

"You brought your gun to a hospital?” Kieren asked, wavering a little on his feet.

"I’m keeping you safe. Come on.”

Simon nodded and led the way out of the room. Kieren shuffled after him, Jem supporting him as best she could while still able to draw her weapon at a moment’s notice. Simon opened the door and peered out.

"Clear,” he whispered and they went into the hall.

Simon led them down hallways and through doors, always checking around corners before moving them on. The hospital was dead silent, the sleepy villages it served unproviding of late-night injuries.

"Where is everyone?” Jem breathed as they stopped at a door labeled “staff only.”

"Norfolk people might have sent some of them away. Could just be understaffed.”

She nodded and Simon edged the door open.

"That you, Simon?” called a voice from inside.

Simon froze and if he’d had color in his face, it would have drained away entirely.

"I thought you were already on shift,” the voice called again.

Simon dared to breath again. Apparently, there was someone else in the building called Simon. But that still left at least one person between them and their freedom.

"Simon? Ugh. Stupid door.”

Simon listened intently to the sounds of the man moving around inside the locker room that was their path to safety.

"Someone’s coming,” Jem murmured tensely.

Footsteps were indeed approaching from the way they had come.

Simon jerked his head sharply and hurried ahead. Jem followed him as quickly as she could, supporting a stumbling Kieren. They dodged through a set of swinging doors and Simon tugged them down behind an empty reception desk. Kieren was breathing hard and Simon gently held a cold hand over his mouth to deaden the sound. They waited in silent terror. If they were found Simon would surely be joining Kieren back at Norfolk. Jem could only guess at what her fate might be. They heard the doors swing open.

"Rotter can’t have gone far,” a male voice was saying. For a fearful second, Jem thought it was Gary.

"He might not be sick anymore,” replied another male voice, this one higher and with that strain of someone trying very hard to be polite to someone else who has done them serious wrong. “Dr. Graham, I really don’t see why I can’t just have hospital security handle this. We do have protocols for-.”

The footsteps stopped directly in front of the desk they were crouched behind.

"I’m not interested in your protocols, nurse whatever the hell your name is. I’m interested in finding that boy.”

"Well, as you said, he can’t have gotten far.”

They started walking again. The three fugitives behind the desk stayed as still and silent as possible until the footsteps faded into the distance.

"Stay here,” Simon whispered. “I’ll check if it’s clear.”

Kieren gave him a stricken look, but Jem nodded.

Simon peered over the top of the desk at the empty hallway and moved off.

Kieren didn’t think time had ever moved to slowly. He was sure several eternities had past before he heard movement again. Jem tensed beside him, but it was Simon.

"It's empty. Come on.”

They followed him back to the “staff only” door and went inside. It was a dark locker room, but their movement triggered the automatic lights. Jem had her gun halfway out before she realized they were still safe.

"It’s okay,” Simon said as he led them past lockers.

"Don’t suppose we could grab Kier something to wear?” Jem asked.

"No time. Come on.”

They followed him to a back door and out into the quiet, country night.

"Now what?” Kieren asked. He still felt weak and unbalanced, but he was cognizant enough to see that their plan had come to an abrupt end. He couldn’t very well walk back to Roarton in his current state.

Jem was looking around the employee’s parking lot they were standing in.

"Anything good out front?” she asked Simon.

He frowned at her.

"Boring cars. Taking an employee’s car will probably just make it easier for the police to track. They’ll be able to find the owner sooner.”

"Not that much sooner.”

"Are we seriously going to hijack a car?” Kieren asked.

"Every little bit helps. We need to get going.”

"I think I saw a grey sedan.”

Jem nodded and they began to edge their way around the building to the front lot.

Simon stood watch and let Kieren lean on him while Jem jiggled with the lock on the car. Kieren was surprised how quickly she had the little car running.

"Alright,” she said. “Where to?”

Kieren looked expectantly at Simon, who frowned.

"Let’s just get to the motorway, alright?”

She nodded and put the car in gear.

Simon kept glancing out the back window as Jem drove, but no one was following them. Yet. Kieren leaned against Simon’s shoulder, too tired to feel bad about making his sister sit alone in the front like a chauffeur.

"Simon, you have a plan, right?” she asked as she drove the car down a narrow lane that wound its way between two tall hedges.

Simon glanced down at Kieren, hoping he would have fallen asleep, but no luck. Well, he’d find out the truth sooner or later.

"No.”

"No,” Jem repeated, incredulous. “You were supposed to have a plan.”

"Why should I have a plan?”

"I don’t know you. You used to have like an entire cult.” Jem’s voice was rising with stress and fear.

"They weren’t my cult. I was just... parroting. And I’m through with them.”

"Great. Now where are we going to take Kieren?”

"We couldn’t have taken him to them anyway.”

"Why?”

Simon looked over his shoulder again at the empty road stretching out into darkness behind them. That was not a question he wanted to answer.

"Because the Undead Prophet wants me dead,” Kieren said dully.

Simon frowned down at him.

"You knew?”

"Yeah.”

"You knew I-?”

"I’m not stupid.”

"Kieren, I’m sorry.”

"Um, what’s going on back there?” Jem asked.

"Simon was supposed to kill me to start the Second Rising.”

"What?”

"It’s fine. That’s all over,” Kieren told her.

"So where do we go?” Jem voice was still edged with hysteria.

"Too bad we live on an island,” Kieren said.

"Why?”

"Because we can’t just sneak over the border to somewhere safer.”

"Nowhere is safe for us,” Simon said darkly.

"Saf _er_. Europe’s supposed to be loads safer.”

"Even if we could get across, we still wouldn’t have anywhere to go. We don’t have money or friends or anything,” Jem said. “We’re screwed. We’re really, really screwed.”

"No,” Simon said.

"What? You got a brainwave?”

"There’s a place.”

"What kind of place?” asked Kieren.

"Like a safe house. We can go there.”

"And this didn’t occur to you sooner?” Jem asked.

"They ULA considers them to be enemies.”

"So the ULA will know where we are?”

"No.”

"Then how do you know?”

"People tell me things,” Simon said impatiently. “I guess I just have one of those faces.”

"So whose safe house is it?”

"Well, you’ve got the HVF and ULA, right?” Simon asked.

"Yeah.”

"Who doesn’t like them?”

"Each other?” suggested Kieren.

"Well, yes, but also everyone else.”

"So we’re going to hang out with the moderates of the undead?” Jem asked.

"Something like that. Just drive. I’ll give you directions.”

* * *

 

They had to pull off at a service station to refuel and avoid crashing as Jem struggled to say awake. It was just past dawn and there were very few other cars around.

"I should be able to get some petrol,” Jem said, flicking through her wallet. “Gary was buying my drinks.” Her eyes narrowed, but she shook her anger off quickly.

"We should get you some food,” Simon said. “And maybe Kieren?”

Kieren shrugged. He felt hungry, but it wasn’t going to improve their driving time if they had to keep stopping for him to throw up.

"We’ll get something small. I can take over the driving and Jem can get some sleep.”

"Okay.”

"Jem, you’ll have to go inside. We can’t risk it.”

She nodded.

"Just stay in the car and keep Kier out of sight.”

Ten minutes later, they were on the road again. They drove in silence, Jem dozing and Kieren fighting to stay awake.

"You should sleep,” Simon told him.

"I’ve gotta help you stay awake.”

"I’m fine.”

"I bet you’ve gotten less sleep than Jem in past twenty-four hours.”

"I need less sleep than Jem. I’m fine.”

Kieren made a face, but dropped the issue. He didn’t, however, let himself fall asleep.

"How long have you known?” Simon asked a while later.

"Known what?”

"That I was supposed to kill you.”

"I dunno. Couple of weeks, I guess. I just put it together.”

"Right.”

They fell into silence, early morning light casting odd colors and shadows over their faces.

"Would you have done it?” Kieren asked.

Simon’s face darkened, despite the rising sun.

"Like I said, there’s what I believe – or used to believe – and then there’s you.”

* * *

 

By the time Simon guided them off the main roads, they were all exhausted.

"It’s not much further, is it?” asked Kieren.

"No.”

Jem was awake and anxious.

"You’re sure it’ll be safe?”

"He’ll be safe.”

"Will Jem be safe?”

"She’s with us. These are people who will actually listen. We’ll all be safe.”

Simon turned onto smaller and smaller roads and finally onto a simple dirt track that led up to an old farmhouse. The surrounding land had grown wild, but the house itself looked to be in a perfectly habitable condition, though it could certainly use new paint and a few of the windows were covered with plywood.

"Is this it?” asked Kieren through a yawn.

"Yes.”

"What now?” Jem’s hand kept twitching for her gun.

"Now you let me handle it and you don’t shoot anyone. I’ll talk to them. It’ll be alright. Just don’t make any sudden moves.”

They got slowly out of the car, Jem with her gun tucked into the top of her bag. Kieren could see figures moving in some of the windows of the house. Simon walked slowly towards the wide porch, Jem following behind him with a hand on Kieren’s arm to support him. Simon came within twenty strides of the house before the front door opened. He stopped and waited to be greeted. Kieren looked at the figure in the doorframe.

The midday sun illuminated her easily. She was generally unremarkable aside from the fact that she was clearly undead. Her dark hair was pulled back into a braid or tail, Kieren could not see which, and see was dressed in old and comfortable looking clothes. Her neck was in a brace and Kieren wondered if that had been the injury that had killed her. He guessed she was somewhere around thirty-five or forty. Behind her, Kieren could see another figure moving. It looked to be a child, but he couldn’t be sure. The woman strode out onto the porch and stood on the top step looking down at Simon, Jem, and Kieren.

"Simon Monroe,” she said and, though her voice was cool and careful, she didn’t sound openly hostile.

"You know me, sister?” he asked.

"By reputation. We heard you had some trouble up in Roarton.”

"You could say that.”

"Who are your friends?” she asked, peering past Simon.

Jem tightened her grip on Kieren’s arm at the scrutiny, but Kieren laid a hand on hers.

"It’s alright,” he murmured.

"This is Kieren Walker and his sister Jem,” Simon told the woman, stepping aside slightly so that she could see him.

"Jem,” the woman said and Kieren could feel Jem tense. “Do you choose to wear make-up or are you living?”

"Living, ma’am,” she replied, shuffling slightly.

"I see.”

"Jem has taken many risks to protect Kieren,” Simon said.

The woman nodded.

"So, Simon, Kieren, and Jem,” she said and Kieren could tell from the way she used their names that it was a statement of power; they knew nothing of her and she held them in her control. “You seek refuge here?”

"Yes.”

"Why?”

Simon hesitated for a moment, but this was an all or nothing game and he knew it.

"Kieren is the First Risen. Or so we believe.”

That took the woman off-guard.

"He is in danger from the ULA and the living at Norfolk.” Simon glanced back at Kieren before continuing. “He is also showing some... strange symptoms.”

"Oh?”

"His heart is beating.”

The woman stared at them as if trying to gauge whether or not Simon was lying.

"Well,” she said at length, “I think you better come inside.”

They followed the woman inside the house. The form that Kieren had guessed was a child darted into another room, but he caught a glimpse of glittery taffeta.

"Alright. What exactly is your... situation?” She asked the question looking directly at Kieren like the others weren’t even there.

Kieren glanced at Simon, who nodded encouragingly.

It took them the better part of an hour to tell the whole story. Jumping back to explain missing details and speaking over one another in a struggle for clarity, it was rather a jumbled tale, their overall fatigue only exacerbating the confusion. The woman, however, just listened, nodding occasionally. She asked no questions and made no comments until they all fell silent, story as exhausted as they were.

"It sounds to me like you need a safe place to stay,” she said at last.

"Yes, ma’am,” said Jem.

"And no one knows you’re here?”

"No,” said Simon.

Kieren had the horrible thought that they were about to be murdered. That sounded very much like a pre-murder thing to say. Damnit, he hadn’t gone through all this shit just to get murdered.

"Then I think you’ve found a safe place.”

"We can stay?” Jem asked.

"Yes.”

"Even me?”

"Of course. We’re not some cult of discriminatory fuckheads,” she told them calmly. “As long as you put no one in danger, we welcome those who need what we can provide.” She stood up and her guests followed suite. “My name is Alka Mahal. Would you like the tour?”

"In all honestly, I think we’d like to go to bed.”

"Of course. It sounds as if you’ve had a long day.” She smiled at them and Kieren thought it might be the first time she’d done so, but he was too tired to be sure. “I’ll show you to some empty beds and we’ll get you all settled in properly later.” She led them out of the room and up a staircase. “So you’re not surprised, we are mostly an undead community, though we do have another living person with us at the moment. We are a place of freedom. You will see people with and without make-up as they like.”

"That seems good,” Kieren offered. He realized too late that it was a dumb thing to say, but he was tired and in favor of freedom.

Alka graced him with a smile.

"Here we are.”

She pushed a door open and they peered into a narrow, dormitory-like room. It was barely large enough to hold the four beds inside. A young man was sitting on the one nearest the large window, reading a book. He looked like he might be the other living person Alka had mentioned.

"Richard? We’ve got some new friends. They’ve come a long way and need to rest. Do you mind?”

"Not at all.”

The young man – Richard – smiled at them and for the briefest moment Kieren saw a different Richard in his face. Did his heart skip a beat? He wasn’t sure.

"There you are,” Alka said as they slipped past her into the room. “Have a nice rest and come down when you’re ready to meet the others. We’ve got food and you’re welcome to whatever you like.” She directed this last comment to Jem, though her eyes flicked to Kieren as well. She smiled at them again and closed the door.

"So we’re safe here?” Kieren asked.

"Yes. We’re safe.”

"They can’t find us?”

Simon sighed as he turned to Jem. He knew that they could always find them, but that the chances were much, much lower here.

"It’s not very likely.”

"So we aren’t safe.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

"We’re as safe as we can be and still have access to food and water.”

"So you’re saying you’d be safer without me?”

"Kieren seems to need food now too,” Simon said, sinking onto one of the beds.

"It’s alright, Jem,” Kieren told her. “We’re going to be alright. Let’s just get some rest.”

* * *

 

It was well after dinnertime when Kieren woke up again. The large window was dark, but there was enough light sliding in around the ill-fit door that he could see Jem was still sleeping. He rolled over as quietly as he could on the old mattress to look at Simon. He could barely make out his profile against the black window. Simon was sitting up on the bed, very still and straight like he might be meditating. Kieren didn’t want to disturb him, but he’d already turned towards him.

"You’re awake,” Simon stated in a hushed voice.

"Yes,” Kieren agreed. “Have you been up long?”

"Since dusk or so.”

"Sorry.”

"You needed your rest. Want to go down?”

"We shouldn’t leave Jem. She might get,” he hesitated for a moment, “worried.”

"You don’t want her to go on a shooting spree.”

"Don’t talk like that.”

"Sorry.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

"What’s going to happen to us? My parents will be losing their minds.”

"You can call them. We’ll drive to a payphone. We need to find a place to ditch the car anyway.”

"Jesus Christ.”

"It’ll be alright.”

"You keep saying that.”

Kieren thought Simon smiled at him in the dark, but he wasn’t sure. Simon patted the bed beside him and Kieren untangled himself from his sheets and went to sit beside him.

"Kieren Walker,” said Simon seriously, looking directly into Kieren’s shadowy face. “I am not going to let anyone hurt you as long as I can move and neither is Jem. We’re going to keep you safe.”

"And I’m just supposed to let you to ruin your lives over me?”

"That’s our choice to make.”

Kieren sighed, looking away. He didn’t like it. It wasn’t right. They shouldn’t be risking everything like this, not because of him. He wasn’t worth it. Not him.

Simon frowned at him like he could tell what was going on inside Kieren’s head.

"We’ll get you some water, something to eat, maybe some anti-depressants...”

Kieren looked up at him sharply.

"Your body’s coming back to life. Your brain chemistry is going to be, well, yours. The way it used to be, most likely.”

"Great,” Kieren muttered.

"On the other hand, do you know how long it’s been since you’ve had a does of neurotripteline?”

Kieren froze, eyes huge as he stared at Simon, terror flooding his body.

"Almost 32 hours if my math is good.”

"But I don’t feel-.”

"Rabid? No.”

"What about you? Did you take it?”

"Yes. While you were asleep in the car.”

"And you didn’t think to give me any?”

"You didn’t need it,” he said patiently. “And if you had, I was right there to give it to you.”

"So you just thought you’d do a little experiment on me?” Kieren demanded.

"I was afraid it would make you sick. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Kieren rubbed at the hole in the back of his neck. It was bandaged over now and he wondered if it had bled as well.

"Simon, what the hell am I?”

"Safe.”

Kieren licked his lips and stared at Simon. The thought that now would be a good time to kiss him had just solidified in his mind when he heard a voice.

"As touching as this moment is, I’m hungry and Kier probably is to. You wanna go downstairs?”

Kieren jumped off of Simon’s bed and Jem snickered.

They went downstairs and followed the sound of voices into a sort of rec room. There were perhaps fifteen people in it. The room was full of the sounds of friendly chatter and a cluster of people seemed to be playing a board game. When the newcomers appeared in the door, however, the room went silent. Kieren became suddenly and painfully aware that he was dressed in hospital issue pajamas and Simon’s over-sized sweater, still stained with his own blood.

"Well look who finally woke up.” Alka stood up from the chair where she’d been holding court with a small group of other undead. “Simon, Jem, Kieren, this is everyone – well, almost everyone. Jamie’s asleep and I think Sarah and Richard went for a walk or something.” She glanced around as if doing a headcount. “Close enough. Friends, this is Simon, Jem, and Kieren.”

Simon nodded at his name and Kieren made an awkward wave. Jem just tensed.

"Jem is living and Kieren is... different. They are here to be safe.”

The group waved and nodded back.

"Are you hungry?”

Kieren and Jem nodded.

"Akemi, why don’t you show them the kitchen?”

A teenaged girl with a round face and about an inch of black hair disengaged herself from the board game and walked over to them. She was maybe five-nothing and wearing a truly impressive amount of make-up. The typical mouse had been followed with bright green eye shadow and neon pink lipstick. There were probably other products involved that Kieren couldn’t identify, but he was impressed that she’d gotten it all the stick. The mousse was a pain to work with.

"It’s this way,” she said brightly.

Kieren glanced at Simon, who nodded slightly.

"You don’t need his permission,” Alka told him.

Kieren felt himself flush and he touched his cheek. It was warm.

"Come on,” Akemi said, sounding a little annoyed.

Kieren and Jem followed her out of the room and to another one.

"I don’t know why she didn’t wait for Richard to get back. He’s the only one who knows where anything is in here.” She opened the door and ushered them into the kitchen. It was a little small, but clean and with all of the obvious amenities. “Food’s in the fridge and the pantry, I guess.” She hopped up onto one of the stools positioned at the end of the counter.

Jem and Kieren looked around a little nervously,

"Seriously, go to town. If Rich wanted anything special for him, he should have labeled it.” She laughed, her face crinkling under all the make-up.

"Richard is the other living person, then?” Jem asked, going to look into the fridge.

"Yup. His SO got shot by the HVF about six months back.”

She said it entirely casually, but Kieren saw Jem’s back go completely ridged. Akemi did not seem to notice as she turned to Kieren and kept talking.

"So you’re the fabled First Risen, huh?”

"I think so.”

"And now you’re, what, warming up?”

"I guess that’s a way to put it.”

"It’s a crazy world, huh?”

"Yeah,” Kieren agreed.

Back in the rec room, Alka had brought Simon over to sit beside her.

"So you’re leading this little band, Simon?”

"I guess.”

"Why?” she asked sharply.

Simon almost answered simply with “because I’m older and knew how to get here,” but he stopped himself. Why had this happened?

"Because they expect me to have answers,” he said slowly.

"Why?” she asked again.

"Because I used to think I did. But those weren’t my answers.”

"So you’re no longer affiliated with the ULA?”

Simon wondered if Alka had been with the military or police at some point in her life. Despite her farm-mother look, she spat out her questions like an interrogator.

"No. I’m a heretic now,” he said with a grim smile. “I’m sure they’d like me dead as well.”

She nodded.

"And you knew about this place how?”

"People tell me things.”

"Oh?”

"I’ve just got one of those faces. I had someone tell me their entire life story over the course of a single dance at a swing party when I was sixteen.”

She blinked at him for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"I think you’ll fit in here very nicely.”

* * *

 

The next day was spent finding clothes, arranging a trip to call the Walker parents and ditch the stolen sedan, and trying to remember new names and faces. Kieren barely recognized Akemi when she popped her head into their room the next morning to offer doses of neurotripteline. She wasn’t wearing any of her make-up and had a huge scar (well, more of wound) running down her face. He could only guess how she’d hid it the day before.

Kieren kept catching glimpses of the child, presumably Jamie, but never long enough to introduce himself or even get a good look at the face. He also kept running into Richard. Every time this happened, he dodged away as quickly as possible. Something in the face was too familiar and the name sure as hell wasn’t helping.

In the afternoon, Alka swept down on them and declared that they must have rooms. Simon protested that they already had a room and that it was perfectly fine, but she refused to listen.

"You’re in the living’s room. Used to be a whole family in there, but they’ve moved on now. France, I think. Trying to catch up with a family member on the run. It’s just Richard now.”

"So do I have to stay there?”

"Not if you don’t want to. We have a room with some of the girls about your age. There’s a bed in there if you like.”

"Can’t we just stay together?” she asked.

"Simon and Kieren will want their own room,” she said as if this was completely obvious.

Kieren felt himself flush again. The feeling was still strange after so much time.

"I think we’d feel safer together, for now anyway,” Simon said.

"Alright,” said Alka with a shrug that clearly said not to come crying to her when Jem was suffocating their sex life. “I’ll see if Richard will move in with some of the boys.”

Ten minutes later they were arranging the few things they around the room.

"I hope he didn’t mind moving,” Kieren said. The last thing we wanted was Richard to get angry at him. That would make him even harder to avoid.

"We’ll have to get more clothes at some point,” Jem muttered.

"Worried about your look?” Kieren teased.

"More like worried Simon’s sweater is going to eat you and this will have all been for nothing.”

Kieren thought he heard Simon snicker, but when he looked around his face was a flat as ever.

"Right. I’m going for walk. Make sure I know what’s around.” She checked her colt and slipped it back into her pants.

"Be careful with that thing. You could put someone’s eye out,” Kieren warned.

"Yeah. Yeah.”

"Does Alka know you have it?”

"I’m not going to shoot anyone, Simon.”

"Does she?”

"Yes.”

Jem rolled her eyes and started to go.

"Have fun with your private time. I’ll be sure to knock.”

She was out the door before Kieren could come up with anything like a suitable comeback. But, to be fair, he did just want to kiss Simon.

The door shut behind his sister and he didn’t see a reason not to.

It was different kissing Simon now. Not bad, just different. Better even, being able to really feel him.

When he pulled away, Simon was staring at him. It was a look Kieren had seen him give him before, like Kieren was the best thing he’d ever seen and he couldn’t quite believe he was real.

"I can’t believe I was going to kill you.”

"You weren’t.”

"I was, though. I was.”

"No,” Kieren said firmly. “You weren’t. You saved my life.”

"I wasn’t sure if I would do it or not until I realized they were going to shoot you.”

"Then you couldn’t have killed me.”

"Maybe.”

"Definitely.”

Simon gave him a half smile.

"It’s going to be okay.”

He nodded at Kieren, strange now that he should be the one receiving comfort.

They sat together in silence for a moment, watching the trees swaying slowly in the breeze.

"About what you asked me at the hospital,” Simon began carefully.

It took Kieren a moment to remember what he was talking about.

"You don’t have to answer that if-,” Simon started, a little frantically. He’d been so tired and probably on some kind of painkillers and just not in his right frame of mind.

"Yes,” said Simon simply.

"I-?”

"Yes. I love you, Kieren. You’re- You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Kieren felt his face growing hot again. Still so strange.  He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t meant to ask Simon that, not so soon. He didn’t even know if he loved Simon, not yet. He wasn’t sure how to tell. He thought he’d been in love with Rick and maybe he had been, but he wasn’t sure anymore. It had all hurt so much. There was no way love was supposed to hurt that much. Or maybe that was just what love was.

"Kieren?”

He hadn’t realized he’d gone elsewhere until Simon’s voice pulled him back to reality. He was starting to panic again, but Simon touched his arm gently.

"It’s okay.”

"Simon, I-.”

"It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Kieren wanted to explain everything he was feeling and thinking, but didn’t have the words for any of it. He didn’t want Simon to think he was throwing himself away on some one-sided bullshit because he did care. He cared so much. He just didn’t know. And how could he make Simon understand all that and so much more?

"I’m glad you’re here too,” he said quietly, leaning his head against Simon’s shoulder.

Simon stroked his hair gently, like he was afraid Kieren might break.

"We’re going to be alright,” he said. “I can’t promise you a lot, but I can promise you that. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Kieren leaned against Simon’s chest, feeling the cool of his body through the simple t-shirt he was wearing. Nestled in Simon’s over-large sweater and with their bodies pressed together, he felt safe. It was almost frightening to realize, but it was true. Whether or not Simon really could protect him, Kieren believed that he would do anything for his safety. Regardless of his strange new environment and housemates, his fear for his sister and Simon, his worry about his parents back in Roarton, and a million other terrors, in that moment he felt safe. And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I was originally planning to have Kieren die from his wounds, but I figured there were more options if he lived.


End file.
